whenever someone’s tired or wants to quit you so often hear “don’t give up!” or “you can get through this!” or “i know you will overcome this!”
but what if i can’t? what then? what if i give up? what happens then? what if i can’t keep going? what if i can’t keep “hanging in there?” tell me, what on earth do i do then? i don’t think i can continue on like this. everything hurts too much. they always have an answer, but what can they say then? am i still worthy of care? am i still worthy of attention, of love? what if i lose this battle? what if i give up? please tell me what happens then? can i bear it? can the world bear it?
“Some scholars observe that, in classrooms today, the initial gesture of criticism can seem to carry more prestige than the long pursuit of understanding. One literature professor and critic at Harvard - not old or white or male - noticed that it had become more publicly rewarding for students to critique something as “problematic” than to grapple with what the problems might be; they seemed to have found that merely naming concerns had more value, in today’s cultural marketplace, than curiosity about what underlay them.”
- “The End of the English Major” in The New Yorker
Just kindly reminding people that Caucasian doesn’t mean white, it should stop being used in that context since it reinforces scientific racism, and the term belongs to people from the Caucasus region in Western Asia. Just say white people.
"When you look at the decade between 1980 and 1990, Song said, you see clear change but when you look at 2010 through 2020 you don’t see much change." - USAToday
"According to the researchers, the last rotation change before 2009 would have occurred in the early 1970s, and the next one will take place in the mid-2040s." - Euronews
The most he interacted with humans was an occasional glimpse of his figure on the horizon.
No one knew his purpose nor the meaning of him entering a village after centuries of contactless sightings.
The oldest elders barely remembered his legend, even though everyone knew he was real.
But, they assumed his presence meant destruction.
He was only seen before great calamities struck.
Everyone also knew that no village who ever saw him lost a soul in the calamities that followed.
The young ones trusted him, and the old welcomed him to their meeting tables.
He spoke not, but abundance he brought.
"He must be a land spirit." Were the whispers in the streets.
"Or he is a harbinger of evil sent to make us complacent." Said others more cautious of the wind than of their own mouths.
Nevertheless, the water-walker became one with the villagers. Always watching, never harming. Never in the way.
Mothers grew to trust in his presence as children stopped disappearing once he came. And fathers knew their sons aspired to be just like him. Generous and reliable.
But one day, after much time had passed and the children became the elders, he left to the sea once again.
It was then that the calamity came. Killing all who dared breathe in its presence.
After that, those who heard the tale said the water-walker must have come to bring comfort before trials came.
To show kindness and love to those soon lost.
And to bring happiness to the ones whom life liked to crush.
The most he interacted with humans was an occasional glimpse of his figure on the horizon.
No one knew his purpose nor the meaning of him entering a village after centuries of contactless sightings.
The oldest elders barely remembered his legend, even though everyone knew he was real.
But, they assumed his presence meant destruction.
He was only seen before great calamities struck.
Everyone also knew that no village who ever saw him lost a soul in the calamities that followed.
The young ones trusted him, and the old welcomed him to their meeting tables.
He spoke not, but abundance he brought.
"He must be a land spirit." Were the whispers in the streets.
"Or he is a harbinger of evil sent to make us complacent." Said others more cautious of the wind than of their own mouths.
Nevertheless, the water-walker became one with the villagers. Always watching, never harming. Never in the way.
Mothers grew to trust in his presence as children stopped disappearing once he came. And fathers knew their sons aspired to be just like him. Generous and reliable.
But one day, after much time had passed and the children became the elders, he left to the sea once again.
It was then that the calamity came. Killing all who dared breathe in its presence.
After that, those who heard the tale said the water-walker must have come to bring comfort before trials came.
To show kindness and love to those soon lost.
And to bring happiness to the ones whom life liked to crush.